


After

by orphan_account



Category: OMFGitsJackandDean, youtube - Fandom
Genre: A little bit of everything, Fighting, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Howard was a soldier, and a good one too. He always followed directions and did what he was told. That is, until one day killing someone takes a harder toll on him then he's used too, and suddenly he finds himself acting against everything he ever knew: to follow orders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Killing Daniel Dobbs

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy the ch. title ohman ;)))

There was a lot of running involved in Jack Howard's day. Every morning he'd wake up and go for a mile run to stay in shape. Then there was the daily raid. That usually consisted of a decent amount of running. Then everyone had to run three laps around the mess hall before they could eat. But Jack didn't mind the running. It kept him focused on something other then the killing. There was so much killing.  
He didn't like to admit it, but the world had made him cold. He was one of the lucky ones who could remember little bits of the world before the recession. He remembered the world leaders massacre where literally every person who was a leader of more then 50 people was murdered. That was a scary sight. Then there was the 5 years of panic. People didn't know who to turn to or who to make their leader. Dictators rose up, whole countries died out, finally some unspoken world wide agreement was made that there were only two lifestyles left. You could either join the local army and work under some sort of general/leader towards the goal: "purging the world of the unwelcome" (thats what the world army motto says, but its really just killing the poor people who don't work and just forge), or you could be the poor people. The one's who don't join the army eventually just become poverty. There's no other jobs and there's not stores. You either work for the world or you work for yourself. That was how it was now.  
Jack never complained though, he liked his situation. It was better then mosts'. He was pretty good with a gun, he never got punished for acting out, he always did his job when he was supposed to. He didn't ask questions or talk back. He just did what he was told, because the people telling him where feeding him and giving him a bed of his own. And that was all he had.  
***  
On the morning of July 10th, 2096, Jack woke up in a pile of sweaty sheets and ears full of the sound of gunfire. A little delusional, he stumbled out of bed and out the tent flap. Only wearing his boxers and his T-shirt, he had barely managed to blink before he realized what was going on. Their camp was being raided… again.  
He rolled his eyes and slumped back inside. This was his least favorite type of killing. The people who stole straight from army camps were always crazed and delusional, usually from starvation. They would usually come in large groups, not big enough to be a threat, but big enough to sufficiently add to the pile of bodies to burn that night on the camp fire. It was a gruesome thought and Jack cringed.  
He pulled on his uniform swiftly and grabbed his gun. Jack was out the door in seconds. He exhaled and cleared his mind, going into 'soldier mode' as his friends called it. And then suddenly he was aware of everything around him.  
Jack's best friend's tent was being raided. It had about three 'unwanted's pursuing it but Jack also knew that his best friend was temperamental and there was no way he _wasn't_ beating the shit out of them right now.  
Some other tents were being attacked. Only two looked like they could benefit from Jack's help. The cook's tent however was obviously the one that would be the most targeted. It had about seven unwanteds and not enough defenders. Jack immediately knew what to do.  
He blinked and a second passed. Then, Jack was moving. The camp blurred past him. This wasn't a complicated scenario. Shoot on sight, don't shoot your own. Jack sprinted towards the cook's tent where one of the chef's assistants was being stabbed brutally. He swiftly and firmly slammed his foot into the unwanted's chest, knocking him off the almost certainly dead assistant. The boy coughed on the ground and scrambled to get up but Jack didn't give him the chance. He cocked his gun and sent a bullet straight into the kid's brain. It was a clean death, quick and humane. Jack only stared at the boy for a half a second before snapping back up and rushing into the tent. He shot three people before they could breathe and then ducked under as a young boy charged towards him with a knife. He smoothly turned around, following the young boy's motions. They were locked in a fight now. A brief second passed where Jack could look at the boy for a moment. He was young, way too young. He looked like he may be 18 or 19… He had brown hair and equally brown eyes. The name tag on his shirt was battered and muddy but the name "Daniel Dobbs" was still clearly written on it. Jack sighed, but didn't say anything. Rule #12: don't talk to someone you're going to kill.  
The little boy opened his mouth to say something, but just then another soldier came up behind him and stabbed him in the back. Shock covered the kid's face. His eyes widened, and then fell. For a split second, Jack felt a surge of pain. He didn't want the kid to die.  
And then it was over, the much-to-small corpse fell to the ground and the next victim crossed his path. Jack shot the rest with ease, his mind still on the little dead boy on the ground. In a matter of minutes, the bodies were cleared and the gunfire ceased. It was over.  
***  
Jack didn't wan't to talk to anyone after the chaos. He went back into his tent and curled up in bed, wrapping the covers around his body and trying to hide from everything around him. He wasn't going to run that morning, not with the image of little Daniel Dobbs plastered in his mind.  
The raid bell came too soon. Jack peered over his shelter of blankets to see that it was time to go raid the next town. Jack knew what this meant. They would go into a town, spread out, kill anyone they saw that wasn't registered as a "contributing citizen". Of course, no one waited long enough to check if they were registered. Most of the meat heads carrying guns in the army knew one thing: If they're not in uniform, shoot them.  
After a short ride in the company vans, they unloaded and organized into formation. Jack was in the front of the line, leading his team into the string of buildings in front of them. They moved quickly and smoothly. Jack raised his right hand and pointed two fingers in the air, the signal to split up. Then everyone was off. They would meet back up in one hour with a catalogue of who they had killed and how many there were.  
Jack bounded into the first building, clearing it out. There were two 'unwanted's, Jack shot them before they saw him enter. _Quick and easy_ , he thought.  
The next building had six unwanteds. Two woman, three men and one kid. Jack swallowed his guilt and shot them all, trying his best not to look at the kid. He was only 3 or 4 years old. He was clinging to the dress of one of the woman, obviously his mother. Jack killed the two as close together as possible, not wanting either to be in too much pain. He set off a fuze and placed a tracker for the cataloguing team. They would take care of it.  
Jack bound around the next corner. He was in an alley now. The walls were so close you could fit maybe two bodies next to each other at a time. Jack crept on, making sure to clear the whole alleyway before leaving. This is when he heard the screaming.  
To say that Jack burst into a sprint without thinking would be an understatement. He was running so fast his gun was bouncing furiously on his back, jabbing his hip. But he didn't care. The scream was horrible. He followed the sound around two more bends and over a small pile of crates. Then he saw it, the person making the noise.  
It was a boy. He had been cornered by two soldiers. Jack didn't recognize either of them. One was about the same height as the screaming boy, the other was a giant. But this was all catalogued in the back of Jack's mind. His main focus was on something else. The boy had brown hair and brown eyes.  
The same brown hair and brown eyes as Daniel Dobbs, the boy from the camp raid.


	2. Saving Dean Dobbs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's really short but i felt like posting today so here you go :)

Jack stood frozen on top of the pile of boxes. The soldiers, who hadn't noticed him yet, approached the screaming boy slowly. They had evil grins on their faces. Jack's body fought against him. He knew he should just leave, he wasn't needed here. But he couldn't take his eyes off of that brown hair.  
Jack's heart ached, images of the young boy named Daniel, slumped on the ground with his cold, empty stare flashed in his mind. He watched, horrified as one of the soldiers, the shorter one, brought his gun up to his shoulder and clicked off the safety. Jack's own hand flexed towards his own gun, but he stopped himself. _What am i doing?_ Suddenly the bigger soldier spoke, making Jack jump.  
"What's your name?" He boomed. The smaller soldier held his aim.  
The boy, shaking and scared, raised his hands in surrender. And then, what he said make Jack's heart stop.  
"Dean Dobbs! My name is Dean Dobbs! My brother, Daniel, he's registered! He's gonna get me a job! Please! I'm getting a job!"  
Jack wasn't sure when he did it, but suddenly his gun was out and aiming at the younger soldier, smoke slowly raising from the end of it. The soldier looked shocked, but empty as he slumped to the ground, a bullet wound clearly visible in between his eyes. Jack quickly jumped down from the pile and slammed his hand into the older soldier's jaw, causing him to collapse unconscious. In one swift motion he had the uniform off of the younger, shorter soldier and threw it at the unwanted standing behind him. The boy clumsily caught the clothes but didn't put them on.  
 _What are you doing, Jack?_ But he knew what he was doing. He was smuggling the kid into the army. He had decided to save him.  
Okay well he hadn't decided to do it, it was just what he was doing now. This happened frequently in the army, and it was easy to do as long as you had someone to replace. The roll callers never knew faces. You just put the name tag of a dead soldier on an unwanted and they were part of the army. If you got caught, however, you and the person you smuggled in got killed. He knew he had to move fast.  
After completely stripping both soldiers so that they were unidentifiable and burning all of the remains of possessions he wasn't going to keep, Jack turned to face the unwanted boy. He spoke fast.  
"Look, i can save you, but you have to do everything i say okay? Put on the clothes quick, before someone shows up. Someone's gonna come to catalogue the bodies soon so we need to clear out."  
The unwanted flinched a little at Jack's harsh words, but he did what he was told. Jack checked around the small alley they were in to make sure no one was watching.   
When the unwanted called "Dean" was finally dressed, Jack picked up the young soldier's gun and clicked the safety back on, handing it to him. Dean's eyes widened but he took it, holding it awkwardly, like it was going to go off any minute.  
Jack nodded to him and waved his hand, motioning for him to follow. Quietly and swiftly, the boys snuck around the town. Jack lead Dean through the maze of building and search parties until he finally found what he was looking for. It was a morgue.  
Even soldiers with no conscience didn't search morgues. The sea of dead bodies just dumped there were enough to make any grown man get sick. But they would be safe there, at least for the moment. Jack stopped outside the door and turned back towards Dean.   
"Close your eyes," he muttered. Dean gave him a confused look. Jack just shook his head. "Just do it."  
Jack took the boy's hand and lead him into the morgue. He closed the door and brought him into the first room. Sure enough, there were a few rotting bodies slumped in a corner. Jack swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled Dean into the next room, this time body free.  
"You can open your eyes now," Jack mumbled.   
Dean opened them and slumped down into a chair, dropping his head into his hands. Jack sat down across from him and waited for the questions. He knew this would come.   
After a few minutes, Dean finally sat up, brushing his long, brown hair out of his face. Jack looked up, waiting.  
"Why?" Dean said simply, it came out more of a whisper. Jack sighed, not wanting to start off with this.  
"You remind me of someone," He muttered, hoping Dean would drop it. Thankfully he did.  
"What are you going to do with me?" he spat, a little angry now.   
Jack tilted his head a bit, "i'm not going to do anything to you! Once my team leaves this area you can stay here and you'll be safe, but i can guarantee your community will be all dead. Or you can come with me and i can smuggle you into the army. It's your choice."  
Dean didn't say anything but Jack knew his answer. He would come with him. Dean looked up again, "Okay, what do i need to know?"  
Jack began explaining and Dean listened intently.


	3. After Ch 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "TT what the hell is that chapter title thats the lamest thing i've ever seen?"   
> IVE BEEN TAKING MIDTERMS ALL WEEK YOU'RE LUCKY YOU EVEN GET THIS CHAPTER TODAY  
> (a.k.a. i'll come up with a cool name l8r i dont even remember what this chapter is about at the moment)

When the siren went off signaling that it was time to return to base, Jack stood up abruptly. He held out his hand again and Dean took it, closing his eyes. Jack held onto him tightly, leading him past all of the horrors and dead bodies.   
When they made it out of the building, Jack dropped Dean's hand and broke into a jog. He rubbed his thumb across the hand that had been holding Dean's; It tingled. Jack shook the thoughts out of his head and continued running. He checked behind him to make sure Dean was keeping up, and sure enough, he was fast. The gun looked too big for him and bounced awkwardly in his arms. But Dean kept up.   
They made it to the parking lot where the vans were waiting to drive the soldiers back to camp. Jack slowed up as they reached the group, suddenly realizing just how many people in the army there really were. He eyed them carefully, watching for people who might question Dean's appearance. He grabbed Dean's shoulder and pushed him up against a nearby van, standing in front of him and obscuring any views there were of the new recruit. He noticed that one of his hands was raised just enough so that it was blocking all access to Dean. He eyed the company, warily, almost sending signals to them telepathically saying _don't you fucking think about questioning this boy._  
Finally the general stepped out of the bigger van and climbed up a ladder so he and what Jack assumed would be his assistant were standing on the roof. The assistant raised his hand and began counting the number of soldiers returned. Jack tensed, he knew the cataloger would notice two people missing. He leaned back, covering Dean a little bit more, careful not to block the counter's view of him at least.  
It felt like forever, but finally the counter stopped and leaned over to whisper something to the general. He nodded and Jack tensed up, waiting. And then, in a raspy and hollow voice, the general spoke.  
"Congratulations, we didn't lose a single man today! You can all file into your vans now, i'll see you at dinner." And then he was gone, the larger van taking off into the dust.  
Jack stayed rooted against the van. What just happened? He had killed two soldiers, but only brought one back… The only explanation he could think of was someone else smuggled a soldier in too. He scanned the crowd, but to no avail. He didn't recognize half of these people anyway. The door of the van he and Dean were leaning against opened and Jack pushed the two of them into it quick, shoving Dean all the way into the back corner of the van and plopping down next to him so that he was between Dean and all of the other soldiers. Soon the van was packed with sweaty bodies, their voices ringing in Jacks head. They were all telling stories about who and how they had killed today. It made Jack sick.  
When they made it back to camp everyone filed into their tents with their roommates. Jack's had been killed a long time ago, so he never had one. He knew it would draw weird looks when he walked through the camp with Dean trailing after him, so Jack decided to wait in the car for a bit while everyone cleared out.   
"We're just gonna wait here until it's a bit safer to walk through the camp." He muttered. Dean nodded, not looking away from the car window where he had been staring the whole time.  
"Um… I-" Dean started but then stopped himself.   
"What?" Jack asked. Dean's eyes fell to his lap where he was playing thumb war with himself.  
"I uh… i don't know your name." He said quietly, obviously embarrassed. Jack shrugged.  
"Jack. Jack Howard!" He said, trying to sound nice and friendly. Dean nodded and Jack saw his mouth move, as if he was testing out the words before he said them.  
"Okay well… um… Jack… Would you mind scooting over a bit, you're crushing me." He said quickly.  
Jack suddenly realized that he was, in fact, crushing Dean. His body was pressed tightly against Dean's and leaning over him a bit. It was clearly a guarding position. Jack relaxed his posture a little bit and gave Dean a bit of room. He smiled sheepishly in response. "Thanks," He mumbled.   
They waited in the car in an uncomfortable silence for a few more minutes before Jack began scooting out of the seat. "Lets go," He said.  
They made their way swiftly across the camp. Only a few people were out of their tents still, chatting with friends. Jack fought against the urge to run. Running looked suspicious. His tent seemed so far away, but they finally made it and Jack held the door open while Dean quickly slipped inside. Finally, with the tent flap closed and securely tied shut, Jack relaxed.   
Dean was standing in the middle of the small tent. There wasn't much room for anything in here. Jack's cot was in the far corner, his laptop perched at the end of it. His blankets were still wrapped around each other in the cocoon he had fashioned for himself earlier that morning. Jack walked over to it and bent down to reach under the bed. He pulled out the disassembled cot that his roommate used to sleep on and snapped it open, pressing the legs into place and pushing it over to the other corner of the tent. Then he dug further under his bed and tossed out a few blankets and a slightly flat pillow. He looked at it for a moment before placing it on his own bed and tossing his larger, nicer pillow across to Dean's bed. Then he stood up, brushing himself off.   
"I guess… umm… welcome home!" He said, waving his arms awkwardly.  
Dean slowly walked towards the cot and ran his hands over the pillow. Jack could tell he was putting the pieces together in his head. He then looked up and smiled at Jack, a smile that cut a small hole into Jack's heart. It was weak and hurt, but hopeful. He'd been through so much today, and yet he was still so grateful. Jack didn't say anything, slumping into his own bed and pulling the covers back so he could lean back against the tent wall. Dean went to making his bed.  
The boys sat in silence for the rest of the day. Dean lay in his new cot, staring at the ceiling for what felt like forever until Jack finally got up to ask him if he was okay. But before he could say anything he snapped his jaw shut, Dean was asleep. Jack sighed and pulled a few blankets over him before sitting back down on his own bed and opening his computer.


	4. Bodies Float

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1) sorry it's so short i had a lot of difficulty writing this chapter i dont know why...  
> 2) "Who's Jaimie he keeps popping up in all of your fics?" i actually don't know Jaimie just seemed like the kind of bitch name that the one friend no one really wants around would have. (sorry if your name is Jaimie haha)

In a few hours the dinner bell rang, and it was time to wake Dean up. This was going to be the hardest part for them, because dinner was roll call hour. This was going to be Dean's chance to either be a convincing enough liar, or get them both killed. Jack strapped a few extra groups of ammo to his belt just in case.  
After he managed to get Dean awake and explained the situation to, the boys set out. Everyone was flocking towards the mess hall, some talking to their friends and walking together, others fighting off jogging and speed walking just to get to the hall faster. When the group finally made it to the hall, everyone filed into a few lines in front of the cataloguers. Jack pushed Dean in front of him so that he could be as close as possible if something went wrong. The line seemed to take forever to get through. People talked and laughed with each other, but Jack just focused on waiting and counting. Finally it was their turn. Dean took a small step forward, noticeably nervous only if you knew he should be. The cataloguer didn't even look up.   
"State your name." His voice was very monotone.  
Dean didn't hesitate. "Tyler Rutledge," he said firmly. The cataloguer nodded, scribbled something on his paper, and then was done. He nodded at Dean who didn't visibly do anything, but Jack knew he was sighing of relief. Jack was next, going through the motions and not taking his eyes off of Dean. The cataloguer gave him his nod and then Jack was off, running as fast as he could, without being noticeable, to catch up to Dean. When he made it to the jogging, brown haired boy he patted his shoulder lightly before slowing up to match his pace. They jogged together around for their three laps and then hopped inside to get some food.  
Jack didn't leave Dean's side the whole time. They trailed along side each other straight to the food line and then into the seating area where Jack spotted his friends and nodded his head for Dean to follow. They sat down just as the group of guys were laughing about something.  
"Hey Jack! Who's that guy?" His friend Jaimie asked.  
Dean stiffened up next to Jack, who leaned slightly closer to him. "This is Tyler Rutledge. He helped me out of a tough situation yesterday in the raid, so i told him he could stick around." Dean nodded at Jaimie, smiling.   
Jaime nodded back and raised his hand in a wave. Jack breathed out slightly, his shoulders relaxing a little bit. A few people turned their heads to look at them, but Dean kept his eyes on his plate. No one really knew what to say.  
Jaimie went back to talking about the different types of guns he wanted for his birthday, which was coming up in a few days. Jack smiled and nodded at the appropriate times, but didn't say anything. He and Dean kept quiet for the rest of dinner. When it was time to go back, they walked slowly through the forest and trails that lead back to the camp site. Now that Dean had been initiated into roll call and made it through dinner, Jack wasn't as worried as he had been earlier. Dean seemed noticeably more relaxed as well, but that might have been just because he was tired.  
They made it back to the tent and said their goodnights. Dean collapsed on his bed, curled up into a ball and sighed sadly. Jack frowned, he wanted to do something to help. Not getting any ideas, Jack gave up and climbed into his own bed in defeat. He lay still for a few more hours, listening to Dean's uneven breathing. Finally his breaths evened out and he went to sleep, allowing Jack to quickly follow.  
***  
Jack wasn't sure what he was waking up to. His eyes fluttered open and his head felt stuffy, but something was going on so he forced his body to sit up and his mind to clear. The opened his eyes sluggishly when suddenly a scream filled the tent.  
Okay it wasn't a full on scream because the source of the scream had a blindfold over his mouth, but it was still enough to fully wake Jack up. And then he was on his feet.  
Three men, their faces covered, were standing over Dean, a mess of ropes and gags. He was completely tied up. Before Jack could react, they had him on their shoulders and were carrying him out of the tent. Jack grabbed his gun and a pack of ammo and chased after them. They were moving pretty fast despite Dean's struggling. As he followed them, trying to clumsily load his gun with ammo, Jack realized where they were taking him. This was the direction of the lake. They were going to drown Dean.  
Jack's feet pounded against the ground as he fought to catch up to the the guys carrying Dean. He raised his gun up to his eye, but hesitated. He was moving too much and he might shoot Dean. Finally they made it to the beach and Jack watched in horror as they threw the squirming, tied up body into the lake. Jack didn't hesitate this time. He took aim at the first boy's legs and fired. He heard a few screams and then the rustling of people running away, but Jack didn't pay attention to them. As soon as they had cleared off he dropped his gun and dove into the lake. Luckily, bodies float and Dean was easy to spot, lying face down in the water, his body splashing around. Jack grabbed a hold of his pajama shirt firmly and pulled Dean back to shore. Finally his feet hit sand and he dragged himself and Dean out of the water, who's tired and tied up body collapsed in the sand in front of Jack.  
Jack quickly removed the ties and gag so that Dean could move again. Panting, Dean let out a strangled sob. Jack picked up his soaking torso and pulled it into his lap and ran his fingers through Dean's dripping wet hair, trying to calm him down.   
"Dean? Are you alright?" He said, his voice sounded strangled and hoarse.  
Dean moaned in response and turned in Jacks lap so that his face was buried in Jack's chest. Jack tensed up for a moment, before deciding no one was watching and wrapping his arms protectively around Dean. His sobs were a lot more violent now, and for a moment Jack wished he had never brought him here.  
But at least he was alive.

**Author's Note:**

> HOLY FRICK SOMEONE STOP ME FOR WRITING A CHAPTER ~~AND~~ AU FIC


End file.
